The Shadow Over Pine Creek (F) (4/4) Update 4/14/14

[Blah!?]

Here's a little something I've been cooking up over the past few days. In short, this is a bit of a mystery adventure story, hopefully light enough to be widely accessible but also in-depth enough to still be interesting. I was loosely inspired by the game Alan Wake, though mostly in terms of setting rather than actual plot details.

This is sort of going to be a series, but each chapter is relatively short (by my standards anyway). I have the first three written and I've started the 4th and final. I'll probably post on a bi-weekly basis, i.e. part 1 today, part 2 on Wednesday or Thursday, and so on. With any luck I'll have the 4th chapter finished later today, but if by some misfortune I don't, I still have a week and a half to get it done before it breaks my schedule.

Anyway, let's get started, shall we?

-----

Day 1

After what felt like days of driving through the middle of nowhere, Lane Kodet finally arrived in Pine Creek. The sun was starting to set, and the streets were empty as Lane made her way toward the center of town. As the buildings became more dense, parked cars began to line the streets, although there was still no one to be seen outside. Luckily, a space just big enough for Lane's car was available in front of a brightly-lit pub. Letting out a sigh of relief, Lane parallel parked and nearly dove out of her car for want of fresh air.

"Ah... Hah..."

Lane could only take a few steps toward the pub before she ground to a halt. Her head tipped back with a series of hitching breaths, and then she staggered half a step forward as she let out a forceful sneeze.

"AHT'TSSHYEW!"

Scowling at the high-pitched sound of the sneeze, Lane gave her nose a slow, firm rub with the top of her middle and index fingers. Her eyes drifted upward to the skyline above the pub, and she discovered the source of her ills. Pine trees stretched on endlessly in every direction. There was no way she could have gone the whole drive without noticing them at all, but the implications of being surrounded by an ocean of tree pollen didn't occur to her until now.

Holding her breath, Lane took the last few steps toward the pub's front door and quickly slipped inside. The scents of burgers and alcohol immediately replaced the pine odor, making Lane feel more at home in an instant. A few faceless townsfolk sat at the booths around the edges of the room, but the bar itself was mostly vacant. Making her way to the nearest stool, Lane quickly sat down and leaned on the wooden countertop.

"I'll have a beer," Lane ordered after making eye contact with the bartender. "Whatever's on tap."

"Sure thing," said the bartender, a kindly, middle aged gentleman. "May I see your ID?"

"What?" Lane blurted, raising an eyebrow at the man.

"Can I see your driver's license?"

"Seriously?" Lane wrinkled her nose in displeasure, but the bartender simply continued to smile at her in silence.

"Fine," Lane muttered, digging her wallet out of her pocket. She slid out her driver's license, displaying Lenore Kodet, born October 9th, 26 years ago. The bartender nodded, prompting Lane to put her license away, and then he began to pour her a beer. Feeling too exhausted to remain angry, Lane sipped at her drink the instant it was served to her, and once she was nearly done, she turned her attention back to the bartender.

"Is there anywhere to get a room around here?" she asked, sloshing the remainder of her drink around in a circle.

"Well, the Bonfire Festival's in just a few days, so most of the places in town are full already," the bartender explained, telling Lane nothing she didn't already know. "But there should still be some rooms at the Hedge Bridge Inn."

"Hedge Bridge?" Lane chuckled, finishing off her beer. "That sounds like a tongue twister waiting to happen."

"It's actually quite a nice place," the bartender added, taking Lane's empty glass. "I'm surprised it almost never fills up. It has a great location, right near the Pine Creek Bridge and the hedge maze."

"Sounds good, thank you," Lane said with a nod, standing up from the bar. She removed her wallet once again and laid a few bills on the countertop to pay for her drink, and then she made her way back outside.

Lane's strides slowed to a clumsy stumble as she tried to cover the distance between the pub and her car. She placed her middle and index fingers underneath her nose and rubbed back and forth, slowly but powerfully. By now, however, Lane's nostrils were already too saturated with tree pollen to resist a sneeze.

"Ah... Ahh..." The young lady took two soft breaths, a drastic understatement compared to the outburst that would soon follow. Letting her rubbing fingers fall away from her nose, Lane threw back her head and let out a staggering sneeze.

"AHT'SHYEEW!"

Lane nearly ran into the side of her car as she took an involuntary step forward. She held up a hand, ready to lean against the vehicle, but she managed to stop short of it by just a few inches. Pausing to rub her nose, Lane took a weary breath through her mouth and then quickly lowered herself into her car. Immediately after starting the engine, Lane cranked up the air conditioning and breathed deep, taking a few seconds to cycle the pollen out of her nose before driving off.

The Hedge Bridge Inn was just over ten minutes away from the center of town by car. Lane was displeased with the distance, especially if she wound up having to walk it at a later time, but having any sort of lodging at all was satisfactory. The dim lights of the town were faintly visible back through the trees, but the inn still managed to feel like it was nowhere near any sort of known civilization. Aside from Lane's car, the only light in the area was coming from the first floor windows of the inn and a single lamp post near the eponymous Pine Creek Bridge. Lane could only see the nearest side of the bridge through the darkness, but she already knew Pine Creek's famous hedge maze was on the other.

Parking her car in front of the inn, Lane took one last breath of cool, clean air before stepping outside. The trees were even denser here than they were in town, and there was so much pollen in the air that Lane sneezed while she was still climbing out of her car.

"Ah... Hah... AHT'TCHYEW!"

Lane pressed her fingers to her nostrils as she made her way to the rear of her car to retrieve her suitcase. Still, her nose was tickling plenty already, and she fought to hold in a sneeze as she dragged her luggage toward the inn. By the time Lane reached the door, she was panting heavily as if the ten-step walk from her car had been a marathon.

"Ah... Ahh... Ahhh..." Three soft, dainty breaths as Lane closed her fingers around the door handle. Her buildups and sneezes barely sounded like they both came from the same person.

"AT'SHYEEW!"

Lane sneezed loudly as she stepped inside, nearly headbutting the door. Once she was safely through, she pulled her suitcase along after her and made her way toward the elderly woman standing behind the inn's front desk.

"Bless you, young miss," the innkeeper said, her voice so soft and smooth it made Lane feel sleepy. "Are you well?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," Lane sniffed, slowly rubbing her nose. "Hay fever. All these pine trees..."

"Aww, that's a shame," the innkeeper cooed sympathetically. Then, she smiled and beckoned Lane closer to the desk. "Are you interested in a room?"

"Absolutely," Lane answered, standing her suitcase up in front of the desk. "I don't know how many nights I'll be here, though. Can I just pay as I go?"

"Of course you may, dear," the innkeeper said, "I won't charge you until you leave. May I see your driver's license?"

Hearing that question twice in the same night made Lane want to cringe, but the innkeeper's presence was simply too soothing for her to react. She calmly produced her driver's license and placed it on the desk.

"Lenore? What a pretty name," the innkeeper said, taking down Lane's information.

"Call me Lane," the younger woman requested, putting on a slightly forced smile. The innkeeper looked up from her papers and returned the smile, revealing her perfect, white teeth.

"And you may call me Muriam Bristol."

"Nice to meet you," Lane responded, bowing her head slightly.

"You too. I'll show you to your room."

Grasping a small key, Muriam led Lane toward a staircase at the far end of the lobby. Their destination was a corner room on the second floor, situated directly above the front door. Muriam unlocked the door and then handed the key to Lane, ushering her inside.

"You get a good night's sleep, young miss."

Lane nodded silently in response and waved as Muriam made her way back toward the staircase. Smiling to herself, she stepped into her bedroom, quietly pulling her suitcase over the foot of the door.

Dust filled Lane's nostrils. Clearly this room hadn't been used in a while. She wrinkled her nose, feeling her eyebrows start to arch of their own accord. Lane's eyelids fluttered lazily, and then her head bobbed forward with a dusty sneeze.

"Hh'knSHHHhn!"

Keeping her mouth sealed shut, Lane forced the whole sneeze out through her nostrils in a strained, nasally blast. She had been set on unpacking before bed, but that sneeze made her feel exhausted and out of breath. Laying her suitcase down on the floor next to the bed, Lane undressed and slipped under the covers as quickly as her tired body would allow. The instant her head touched the pillow, she was fast asleep.

Lane stood at the edge of the Pine Creek Bridge, staring out into the darkness. She looked back, finding the inn and her car exactly where she had left them. The inn's windows were dark, but the lamp post by the bridge glowed brightly, illuminating a small circular area. Lane was already past it, standing where the wood of the bridge was starting to emerge from beneath the dirt. Curious to see what lay ahead, Lane took a step into the darkness.

Once she was far enough from the lamp post, Lane's eyes began to adjust to the low light. It was still difficult to see more than a few feet ahead, but she pressed on. Eventually, the outlines of several angular, well-trimmed hedges came into view. As Lane cleared the bridge and stepped back onto solid ground, the hedge maze stretched out as far as she could see on both sides. The entrance was directly ahead, but it was blocked by a wall of pure, absolute black.

Lane was curious, not suicidal. She turned back to the bridge and prepared to make her way back to the inn. As she took her first step onto the wood, Lane froze. She stared into the darkness, and a pair of eyes stared back at her from the far side. They weren't red, like the eyes of a monster in a typical child's nightmare. Instead, the eyes were simply two points of white light. Aside from their inherently surreal nature, they didn't even seem particularly threatening. Then, Lane noticed she could no longer see the lamp post on the far side of the bridge.

Lane blinked. When she opened her eyes, the eyes that stared back seemed to have moved a step closer. She blinked again, and the eyes were closer still. After one more blink, the eyes were positioned roughly in the center of the bridge. Whatever held the eyes was just close enough that Lane could just barely make out its features. It appeared to be an animal of some sort, very much like a dog, but Lane couldn't see more than an outline. Then, the creature let out a low, guttural breath.

A chill ran up Lane's spine as her body filled with primal terror. She still had no rational reason to fear the creature, but upon hearing the sound it made, her mind reacted on instinct. At the same time, Lane's nostrils were filled with a strong scent of pine trees. She hadn't even noticed the smell had been gone this whole time until it suddenly flooded back to her, overwhelming her senses.

"Ahh... Haah..."

Lane's face contorted slowly as her urge to sneeze grew, and just as her eyes were about to close, she saw the creature resume its approach. She struggled to keep her eyes open as if it would repel the beast, but the building sneeze quickly took control.

"ACK'CHHYEEW!"

Lifting her head up off of her pillow, Lane sneezed herself awake. She was lying in her bed at the Hedge Bridge Inn, damp with a cold, fearful sweat. Nostrils flaring helplessly, Lane held her breath and sat up. The window facing the bridge was open. It definitely hadn't been open before, otherwise Lane would have been sneezing too much to get any sleep.

"Ah... Aahh... AT'TSHHYEW!"

Sneezing yet again, Lane forced herself to her feet and quickly made her way to the window. She was about to slam it shut when she heard the sound of footsteps in the grass and leaves outside. Leaning out of the window, Lane watched as a shadowy figure ran off into the trees behind the inn.

"What the hell?" Lane mumbled to herself, grabbing the open edge of the window. She closed and latched it as quickly as she could, and then she made her way back to the bed to hopefully sleep for the rest of the night. This was far from Lane's first experience with nightmares, but she regularly had only one a night; never more, never less.

"Ah..." Lane hitched, sliding her middle and index fingers under her nose just as she reached her bed. One last sneeze tried to force its way out, and Lane decided to oblige it, thinking it could clear her head.

"ASHHYEEW!"

Snuffling pitifully, Lane rubbed her nose and climbed back into bed. Her tickling nostrils kept her awake for the next few minutes, but eventually she became acclimated to the irritation and dozed off until morning.

-----

And that's all for now. The next part should be up in just a couple days. It is technically done already, but I don't want to rush things. I hope you all enjoyed, and I'll see you next time!

[Pilgrim]

I'll be interested to find out why she's here, and what lies in store for her!

[MoonDuck]

Cool, I can't wait for the next part!

[a red nine]

Oh, on the second reread, I almost forgot about the shadowy figure! My memory sucks, but anyway, I think mystery is yet another genre you've got a good grasp on. The build up of suspense has already begun, though at a crawl - makes me wonder what the real mystery is going to end up being, and how Lane is going to have to pay the price for trying to solve it. Because you know. That's how it goes when the paranormal is involved. In any case, I imagine it's not all going to be solved so very simply or with repercussions of some kind.

And all that said.. Lane spicing is real cute. Again, good spellings, but what really gets me are the little situations, right on.

[Blah!?]

So, I figured I'd move my schedule up a bit and post the next part today. I don't see too much point in holding them back for more than a couple days each, since that's probably enough to space things out.

Thank you for the comments, to those who left them! I hope this next part continues to keep you stimulated.

-----

Day 2

Lane awoke peacefully the next morning, lying under the covers for a few minutes before summoning the willpower to get up. She felt congested and groggy, but no worse than she expected to after spending a night in hay fever country. Clearing her throat, Lane grabbed a towel and her toiletry bag and made her way to her bathroom.

The bathroom was in similar condition to the bedroom, but Lane could immediately tell that it hadn't seen use in years. Everything was caked in a layer of dust; Lane couldn't make out so much as a shimmer on the mirror, let alone her reflection. Knowing what would happen if she tried to clean, Lane decided to leave the dust where it lay and take a shower. With any luck the steam would clear some of it away. Then, as soon as the thought left her head, Lane carelessly dropped her towel on the edge of the sink.

Dust exploded into the air. Lane quickly jogged to the shower as if she could escape it, but she already knew it was too late. She stopped just short of the shower, one hand raised to pull the curtain back, and then her head bobbed forward with a nasally sneeze.

"Hh'kSHHHhn!"

Lane drew back her hand to rub her nose, and then she quickly pulled the shower curtain open. More dust took to the air as the curtain was disturbed, so much that Lane couldn't help but sneeze again.

"HH'knCHHHhh!"

At long last, Lane was finally able to take her shower. She lathered her dirty-blonde hair with shampoo and then simply stood under the shower head for a few minutes, trying to relax. Once her hair had been thoroughly rinsed, Lane decided she'd had enough and shut off the water. Luckily, the steamy air had managed to gather up the dust. Wet clumps lined the edges of the floor, making the bathroom appear even messier than it had before, but at least it wouldn't make Lane sneeze. After drying off, Lane tied her damp hair back in a small ponytail and returned to the bedroom to get dressed.

Keeping her distance from the windows, Lane opened her suitcase and dug out her clothes for the day. She pulled on a pair of dark gray trousers and a matching sport coat over a lighter gray sweater. To finish off her outfit, Lane produced a silky white scarf and looped it around her neck, letting it hang loose.

"Good morning, young miss," Muriam greeted as Lane made her way downstairs to the lobby. Lane nodded back, lightly flicking a finger under her nose.

"Morning. Got anything for breakfast?"

"Of course, dear." Muriam disappeared into a small back room and pushed out a cart covered with toast and pastries. It wasn't much, but Muriam didn't appear to be charging for them, so Lane definitely couldn't complain.

"Thanks," Lane said gratefully, taking a few pastries over to a small table in the center of the lobby. She took a bite and looked up to see Muriam returning to her place behind the front desk. The innkeeper smiled as they made eye contact, and then she decided to strike up a conversation.

"So, what brings you to Pine Creek?"

"I'm a journalist," Lane answered after swallowing her food. "I write articles about myths and urban legends. You must know the stories yourself already, but I've heard some tasty rumors about that hedge maze over there."

"Oh! Surely you don't believe all that hearsay," Muriam gasped, placing a hand on her chest. Lane smiled and shook her head.

"Of course not," Lane reassured, "I've investigated my fair share of rumors, and so far none of them have been true."

"Well, it's nice to hear at least some city folk can be sensible," Muriam smiled.

"Who says I'm a city girl?" Lane asked, shaking her head.

"Just a hunch, young miss. The way you carry yourself, the way you dress. You're like something out of an old movie, coming to a little town like this just before a festival. Plus, your hay fever is a dead giveaway."

"Right..." Lane murmured, forcing a smile. She swallowed the last of her pastry and then dabbed at the corners of her mouth with a napkin. After depositing her napkin in the nearest waste basket, Lane made her way to the door.

"Alright, I'm heading out. See you later."

"Have a nice day, young miss."

Lane was expecting to have to drive back to town, but as she stepped out of the inn, she found that the town had come to her. Dozens of people were bustling in the large, open area that appeared to be nothing more than the inn's parking lot the night before. The Bonfire Festival wasn't for another two days, and it was clear that most people were still in the midst of preparing, but at least a couple attractions appeared to be up and running.

"Haah..." Lane's nostrils twitched as she detected the scent of pine. The smoke from the barbecue to her left had been masking the odor, but Lane knew better than to hope it would keep the pollen away.

"AHK'TSHHYEW!"

"Gesundheit!"

A perky voice blessed Lane immediately after she sneezed. She glanced in the direction of the voice to find a lady sitting on a stool beside an easel. A pile of thick paper was stacked on the grass beside the stool, along with a wide array of pens.

"Thanks," Lane sniffed, starting to rub her nose.

"Catch a cold?" the woman asked, never breaking her smile.

"Hay fever," Lane corrected, about to continue on her way.

"Would you like a caricature portrait?"

Lane paused, weighing her options. She didn't particularly want a portrait, but getting to know this woman would help her build a connection with someone in town. It was a start, at least.

"How much?" Lane asked, turning back to the woman.

"You're new around here, right? First one's on the house!"

Letting out an internal sigh of relief, Lane agreed. This was hardly the sort of thing she would ever want to pay for, but she had never been one to refuse free things. She sat down on a second stool across from the woman and tried to hold a steady pose. Surely enough, the tree pollen once again began to bother Lane's nose, but she did her best not to react.

"Ah... Haah..." The woman stopped her drawing as she noticed her subject building up to a sneeze. Lane rubbed her nose for a few seconds, but she already knew it was a waste of effort.

"AT'SHHYEEEW!"

Lane tried as hard as she could not to move too much, but her sneeze caused her to bend forward sharply at the waist. She rubbed her fingers back and forth under her nose, slowly pressing it from side to side across her face.

"Sorry," she coughed, giving her nostrils one last rub.

"Gesundheit! Don't worry about it!" the woman reassured. "You just go right ahead and sneeze if you need to. I used to have seasonal allergies myself, so I know what it's like. Then again, they cleared up just a few months after I moved here."

"Lucky you," Lane groaned, feeling envious. She sniffed pitifully and wrinkled her nose, and then she did her best to hold still.

"So, uh," Lane spoke up, sounding unsure of herself to hide how much she already knew, "you know all the rumors about that hedge maze there? Any truth to those?"

"Oh, don't be silly!" the woman laughed, "they're just stories meant to scare tourists. Don't worry your pretty little head over it."

Lane struggled to hide her disappointment. She could tell already that this woman was a dead end, and any attempts to press her for more information would just make things awkward. Instead, Lane kept quiet and held still for the next few minutes while the woman completed her caricature.

"All done!" the woman announced a few minutes later. She removed the paper from her easel and displayed it to her subject. Lane immediately forced a smile to conceal her displeasure. She couldn't object to the top of the drawing; her thin eyebrows and sharp eyes looked fine. Below that, however, Lane struggled not to scowl at what she saw. Her wide, upturned nose had been exaggerated to comical proportions, taking up a fairly large area of her face. Worst of all, if it turned up just a tiny bit more sharply, it would have made a passable pig snout. Further down, Lane's lips were too puffy, but despite that they were drawn tight into a near-frown. Lane knew better than to be offended; caricatures were meant to look strange, but she already deeply disliked her overly youthful face.

"Thanks a lot," Lane said, accepting the thick paper. The woman bowed her head graciously, and Lane kept up her false smile until she was facing away. Then, her expression sank back to its usual displeased default. Tucking the paper under her arm, Lane made her way toward the Pine Creek Bridge. If the locals didn't want to talk to her about the rumors, she would just have to investigate them firsthand.

"Ah... Ahh..." Lane slowed to a stop in the center of the bridge. A breeze blew across the crevice, throwing Lane's scarf and ponytail to one side and also filling her nostrils with pollen. She lifted one hand to rub her nose, oblivious to the fact that she was starting to lose her grip on the portrait in her other hand.

"AHT'TCHHYEW!"

Lane was thrown forward by her sneeze, forcing her to take a step and a half to steady herself. At the same time, her brand new caricature slipped through her fingers and sailed away on the wind, quickly flying over the edge of the bridge. Lane tried to reach after it, but admittedly she wasn't terribly saddened to see it go. Once she recovered her breath, Lane continued to the far side of the bridge and stood before the entrance to the hedge maze.

The walls of the maze were a good ten feet tall. Lane knew she would never be able to see over them even if she jumped. She noticed the outside of the maze looked identical to how it had appeared in her dream, even though she had never seen it before. Still, all she could see was the two straight walls stretching out in either direction with a gap in the center. Not much room for interpretation. Feeling curious, Lane took a step toward the entrance.

"I wouldn't go in there if I were you."

Lane stopped in her tracks, hearing a gruff voice behind her. She turned to see an old man standing in the center of the bridge, frowning deeply.

"Who, me?" Lane blurted, pointing to herself.

"Girl, do you see anyone else around here?" the man grumbled, raising his arms confrontationally. Lane rolled her eyes and turned back to the hedge maze.

"I wouldn't have come to this god damn town in the first place if I were you."

"Why not?" Lane snorted, folding her arms.

"You must have heard the stories," the man said, taking a step closer. "Nobody ever comes out of that damn hedge maze? A hundred people visit for the Bonfire Festival, only ninety five leave?"

"Who says I believe in that stuff?" Lane shot back. "Do you?"

"People don't make up stories for no reason," the man responded, his frown deepening.

"Yeah, well I... Aah..." Lane tried to keep up her argument, but it was a miracle she had been able to go for so long without sneezing already. Another breeze sent tree pollen swirling around her, and at least one sneeze was inevitable.

"AT'SHHYEW!"

"What, you sick or something?" the old man asked bluntly as Lane righted herself. The young lady rubbed two fingers under her nose, snuffling softly for a few seconds.

"I'm not sick," she protested, keeping her fingers pressed to her nostrils as she scrunched up her face. "It's just my hay fever."

"Sounds like you're sick to me."

"Well I'm nah... Haah... ACHYEEW!"

As abrasive as Lane had been with the old man, she found him intriguing. Once she finished sneezing, she turned back to the bridge to approach him. However, she saw that he was heading back toward the town, about to disappear into the growing crowd of people. Lane jogged back across the bridge to catch him, but she lost track of him by the time she arrived near the inn. Letting out a sigh, Lane shook her head and stepped back into the inn.

"Hello, young miss," Muriam greeted, surprised to see her guest returning so soon.

"Can you help me find someone?" Lane asked, stepping up to the counter. The innkeeper looked a bit surprised, but she smiled and nodded.

"He's an older man, maybe around your age," Lane elaborated, scratching her head as she thought. "Clean-shaven, but he still has most of his hair."

"That sounds like Mister Skinner," Muriam said with a frown. Lane raised her eyebrows, impressed that the innkeeper was able to identify the man based on so little information. "I wouldn't recommend talking to him."

"Please, it's for my article," Lane insisted, rubbing two fingers across her nostrils. "I need to interview as many people as I can."

Muriam sighed, but eventually she agreed. Lane's face lit up, and for the first time that day, she put on a genuine smile. The innkeeper drew out a piece of paper from beneath her desk and wrote down directions to Skinner's home. He didn't appear to live far away, maybe a ten minute walk. Despite the proximity, Lane decided to put off her visit. It would be better to give Skinner some time to process who she was before she barged in on him again.

To pass the time, Lane headed back outside and bought a burger from the barbecue for lunch. She returned to the inn to avoid the pollen so that she could eat in peace, and then she retreated to her room to start writing her article on the Pine Creek hedge maze. Skinner at least knew something about what Lane was interested in; he was the only person she'd talked to who actually mentioned the subject matter of the rumors concerning the town. Everyone else had simply dismissed them.

By the time Lane decided to take a break from her article, she sun was already beginning to set. Rolling her eyes, she groaned to herself and resolved to head to Skinner's house before it got much darker. Kneeling down next to her suitcase, Lane drew out a flashlight, checking to make sure it had a full set of batteries installed. A black metal box sat beneath where the flashlight had been, and Lane debated opening it and removing its contents. After pondering for a second, Lane decided it would have been too drastic and too soon, even if it was just a precaution. The box remained undisturbed at the bottom of the suitcase.

Flicking her flashlight on, Lane made her way out of the inn. Muriam hadn't been at the front desk, but Lane wasn't terribly worried. She dug the innkeeper's directions out of her pocket and followed them around the side of the building, putting Lane in a familiar spot. She was now standing exactly in the place she had seen from her window the night before, and she was heading in the same direction she had seen someone run. Perhaps it was Skinner, stalking her before she saw him the first time. Lane shook her head, hoping it wasn't true if only because it would have been too cliché.

"Haah... Aah..." Lane rolled her eyes as her breath began to hitch. She was surrounded by pine trees on all sides, and she knew the walk to Skinner's house would not be a comfortable one. Lane's strides slowed to a crawl as she began to rub her nose, and eventually she came to a complete stop just in time to sneeze.

"AT'TCHHYEW!"

Lane stumbled forward, rubbing her nose again even before she steadied herself. Clenching her eyes shut, she rubbed for a few seconds more before continuing on her way. Lane lifted a foot to take another step, but an unexpected second sneeze made her stumble and nearly fall.

"Ah... Aah... ASHHHYEW! Dammit!"

Swearing under her breath, Lane pressed her middle and index fingers to her nostrils and held them in place as she continued walking. Perhaps plugging her nose would prove to be more effective than trying to rub the sneezes away.

Lane sneezed a dozen more times over the course of her ten minute walk. Each one made her feel frustrated and out of breath, but overall she hadn't sneezed nearly as many times as she thought she would. Snuffling quietly, Lane rubbed her nose slowly but firmly and stepped up to the front door of what she could only assume was Skinner's abode. It appeared to be more of a barn than a house, but it still seemed like a suitable dwelling.

"Mister Skinner?" Lane called out, knocking on the door. No response came, so she knocked again.

"Mister Skinner! It's that girl you were yelling at earlier today! I want you to come yell at me again!"

Lane pounded on the door, but there was still no response. She at least expected the old man to come and chase her away with a shotgun if she was disturbing him. The complete lack of acknowledgement led her to believe he wasn't there. Lane was about to give up, but she noticed something around the side of the house that caught her attention. She could faintly see the outline of a cellar door, and a tiny sliver of light was just barely peeking through a gap in the wood. Smirking to herself, Lane stepped back from the front door and walked around to the side of the house.

"Mister Skinner?" Lane called out one last time, admittedly more quietly than before. After a few seconds passed in silence, Lane reached for the cellar door. She felt a tickle in her nose just as her fingers closed around the door handle, and she paused to sneeze before opening it.

"Haaahh... AHT'SHHYEEW!"

Lane thought for sure her loud, high-pitched sneeze would provoke a reaction if Skinner was around, so she felt doubly assured that she was alone when no response came. Smirking to herself again, Lane pulled the cellar door open and descended the creaky wooden staircase.

The cellar was fairly anticlimactic, with nothing more than a few crates stacked here and there. A single light bulb hung from the ceiling. It was dim, but the room was small enough for the light to fill it adequately. Stepping quietly around the crates, Lane explored the cellar, not sure what she expected to find. Eventually, her gaze wandered to the farthest wall. A dark blanket was draped across it as if covering something, and the temptation to see what lay behind it proved to be too much for Lane to resist.

Lane stood in front of the blanket for a second, wondering what it could be concealing. Deciding there was no point in waiting any longer, she grabbed the blanket and pulled it down quickly but carefully. Dust flew from the blanket, filling the air around Lane. She blinked rapidly to clear her eyes, and then she scrunched up her face and bobbed forward with a sneeze.

"H'knCHHn!"

Dropping the blanket on the floor, Lane pressed two fingers to the underside of her nose and gazed up at the wall. She rubbed her fingers back and forth slowly as her eyes fell upon a metal rack bolted into the concrete foundation. An M16A1 assault rifle sat horizontally across the rack, held in place by a heavy padlock. This weapon was state of the art in its time, but today it was merely a relic of the Vietnam War.

Lane noticed a large metal trunk at the foot of the same wall. It had always been visible, but the hanging blanket drew her attention away from it. She pulled the blanket away to examine the trunk, releasing another cloud of dust into the air.

"Hh'knnSHHh!"

Lane sneezed again as she piled up the blanket next to the trunk, and then she leaned in close to take a better look. It was securely locked, and while Lane was confident she would have been able to pick it, she wasn't ready to be arrested for breaking and entering just yet. Deciding she had seen enough, she picked up the blanket and placed it back over the weapon rack. The blanket swayed, lightly brushing across Lane's face. Dust tickled her nose, and she was about to sneeze a third time when she heard the cellar door start to creak.

Holding her breath, Lane darted behind a nearby crate. Here she was hidden from both the staircase and the area near the weapon rack, but she couldn't afford to make a sound. Her nostrils were still full of dust, however, and she knew she wouldn't be able to hold in a sneeze for long. Footsteps descended the stairs into the cellar, transitioning from wood to concrete as they reached the bottom. Lane pressed her fingers to her nostrils and refused to breathe.

The footsteps continued into the center of the cellar, and then with a quick, metallic pop, the light bulb went out. Lane felt relief wash over her when the footsteps began to retreat back toward the staircase, but her resolve began to break. Just as she heard the bottom step of the staircase creak, Lane's head dipped down with a sneeze.

"HH'knCHHhn!"

"Who's there?" Skinner shouted before even stepping away from the staircase. Lane held her breath, knowing she had lost any chance of a clean escape. The best she could hope for now was to evade Skinner as he searched for her rather than simply waiting for him to leave. If she could just get close enough to the staircase without being seen, maybe she could make a run for it.

Listening as the footsteps approached, Lane silently slid behind another crate, keeping just out of sight. After dodging around a few more crates, the staircase was only a few feet away. However, just as Lane was about to sprint back out into the forest, Skinner returned to the entrance and sat on the first step.

"I know what you're up to," the old man grumbled, resting his wrists on his knees. "I'm not leaving until you give yourself up. Show yourself now and there won't be any bloodshed."

Lane rolled her eyes, knowing she had been so close to escaping. She knew better than to doubt Skinner's word, so she let out a sigh and pushed herself up to her feet.

"You got me," she groaned, weakly throwing up her hands in mock celebration. Skinner's bored expression quickly became enraged, and Lane felt genuinely afraid for a few seconds. He stormed up to her and grabbed her by her scarf, pulling her in close.

"Girl, I told you to get out of this god damn town!" bellowed Skinner, meeting Lane's scowl.

"Look, I'm sorry for sneaking into your house, but you can't just kick me out of town," Lane growled, her nostrils flaring in anger.

"Sneaking?" Skinner blurted, losing track of his original subject. "You call that sneaking? That was a piss-poor effort if I ever did see one. You can't sneak up on shit when you've got the corn flu or whatever the hell's wrong with you."

"It's hay fevehh... Heh... Hhh'KNSHHHhn!"

"Do I look like I give a damn what it's called?" Skinner shouted, letting go of Lane's scarf as she sneezed. "And I don't give a damn why you think you ought to be in this town. Now, get out of my house before I make you regret it."

Lane scowled at Skinner, gently massaging her shoulder. She quickly stepped past him and made her way up the staircase back into the woods. Skinner followed a few feet behind, slamming the cellar door shut and heading around to the front of his house.

"And get out of this god damn town before you don't have a chance to regret it!"

Lane wasn't quite sure what Skinner meant by that last exclamation. She pondered it as she made her way back to the inn, but between her foul mood and her intermittent sneezes, she didn't arrive at any likely conclusions. Muriam was still nowhere to be found when Lane returned to the inn, but the journalist couldn't be bothered to care. She jogged back to her room and dug the metal case out of her luggage.

Producing a key from the inside pocket of her jacket, Lane unlocked the case and lifted the lid. Inside sat a Walther P99 along with two full magazines, set in a layer of cut foam. Lane removed the handgun and one of the magazines, inserting it into the well in the weapon's grip. Making sure the safety was on, Lane placed the handgun under her pillow, relocked the case and put it back in her bag.

Lane's irritable demeanor began to subside as her body realized how tired she was. Leaving her clothes in a pile on the floor, she slipped under the covers of her bed and stared up at the ceiling for a few more minutes before finally dozing off. Lane slept soundly for a moment, but just like every other night, the nightmares set in before too long.

Opening her eyes, Lane found herself standing in the center of a perfectly round hole in the earth. She spun around in a circle, looking for anything she could use to climb out or even identify her location, but she had no such luck. The hole was too deep; she couldn't touch the lip even when she jumped. Lane began to claw at one side of the hole, attempting to dig her way out horizontally, when a pile of dirt suddenly landed on top of her. She glanced back at the opening of the hole, expecting to see a shovel retreating out of view, but instead she saw only the blank, gray sky.

Before Lane could resume her digging, another pile of dirt fell into the hole. She looked back at the sky, and this time dirt started pummeling her constantly like a bizarre, solid rain. The dirt began to fill the hole, but Lane found herself unable to stand on top of it as the surface rose. Instead, the dirt trapped her in place, first ensnaring her legs, and then her arms. After just a few seconds, the dirt reached all the way up to Lane's chin.

Lane kept her mouth closed, but before long the dirt began to seep into her nostrils, making her choke and cough. She spluttered, starting to feel a tickle in her nose. Although her body ached for a sneeze, Lane refused to inhale in an effort to keep the dirt from working its way any deeper inside her. However, she barely had time to put up a fight before a sneeze forced its way out of her.

"Hh'khnCHHHhh!"

Lane's body curled as she let out a sneeze while lying on her side. Her skin glistened with the same cold sweat from the night before. Extending her middle and index fingers, Lane rubbed them slowly back and forth across the underside of her nose until the tickle in her nasal passages disappeared. At the same time, she slid her other hand under her pillow and closed her fingers around the grip of her pistol. Knowing it was there was enough; Lane let go of the gun and gently closed her eyes. Her daily nightmare served, she was ready for sleep again.

-----

And it's that time once again, folks. I'll probably continue with my schedule of one update every two days, so part 3 should be along on Thursday. I hope you all enjoyed, and I'll see you then!

[TheCakeIsAlive]

Mysterious... I love how you play with dream/reality ambiguity. Also.. *shakes fist* darnit I'm impatient I wanna know what happens.

[bloom]

Loving it so far. Can't wait to see how it all ends up.

I'm still eternally cracking up at the "corn flu" and her irritation with the caricature xD I really love the way you always manage to inject humor into your stories, even when the rest of the plot is pretty serious.

[OCC]

I really like this story! It's hilarious at points but it also does a really great job of pulling you in and leaving you waiting for the next installment.

[a red nine]

Okay Mr. Skinner is so creepy, even that name is creepy. Lane, I still say you're lucky you got out with your head! And this is a written work! That someone else controls! Still lucky

I really like the dialogue between Muriam and Lane, it's so cute, if only I didn't seriously suspect that Muriam were behind plenty more than she lets on... Really liked the caricature scene too. It says a lot about Lane's personality to see her so disappointed with the picture of herself, being particularly cute about not liking her nose. I mean the things that make her look younger. No I don't. I liked the caricature artist - even in that short span of time, I got a clear picture of who she is. In fact, the dialogue between just about everyone may be some your strongest: you hardly need to hear (see?) a character speak more than a few lines before you get an idea of who they are - which is of course subject to change as the mystery unfolds. The details never seem to cancel each other out either, they all make sense. You get me? Anyway, I really want to know how this all wraps up, and I'm even more curious to see if Lane makes it out with her head after all...

I'm still eternally cracking up at the "corn flu" and her irritation with the caricature xD I really love the way you always manage to inject humor into your stories, even when the rest of the plot is pretty serious.

HOW COULD I FORGET CORN FLU???

CORN FLU

[Blah!?]

Continuing my updated schedule of one chapter every two days, here is part 3! However, this is going to be my last update until Sunday, or possibly even Monday. I'm going to PAX East this weekend, and I'm leaving tonight. While I may have a chance to briefly log in and check the forum every now and then, I'm fairly certain I won't have an opportunity to post anything substantial here. The good news is that I've finished writing the 4th and final chapter, so I'll post that one as soon as I return.

Things really start picking up this time around, so let's not waste any more time.

-----

Day 3

"Ah... Ahh... Ahhh... ACK'CHHYEEW!"

Lane sneezed herself awake and groaned, pressing two fingers to her flaring nostrils. She glanced up at the window across from her bed and nearly gagged when she saw a thin layer of yellow caked across the glass. Firmly rubbing her nose, Lane forced herself out of bed and jogged to the shower to escape the morning pollen.

Even after freshening up for the day, Lane still felt miserable. Her turned-up nose was stuffy, causing her to sniffle almost constantly. On top of that, her nasal passages tickled just enough to make her want to sneeze, but not enough to let her. Stepping out of the bathroom, Lane knelt down over her suitcase and drew out her clothes for the day. Her outfit was similar to what she had worn yesterday: a black suit with a dark gray sweater, and the same white scarf as before. After she secured her scarf in place around her neck, Lane was finally ready to sneeze again.

"Hah... HA'TSHHYEW!"

"Bless you, young miss!" Muriam called from the other side of the door. She must have been making the rounds to the various bedrooms, but Lane had never noticed her doing so before.

"Thanks!" Lane called back, unzipping the front pocket of her suitcase and removing a travel pack of tissues. Holding a tissue to her nose with one hand, Lane lifted her pillow with her other hand and grasped the pistol she had left there overnight. She took a deep breath through her mouth and then blew her nose, smiling as her heavy head quickly became lighter.

"ACHHYEEW!"

Lane suddenly sneezed into the tissue just after she finished blowing, but it felt good to let it out. She wiped the damp tissue back and forth across the underside of her nose a few times, and then she crumpled it up and tossed it into the waste basket near her bed. After placing the packet of tissues in her pocket, Lane held up her firearm with both hands and inspected it. Once she had made sure it was still loaded and the safety was on, she slipped it into the holster hidden under her jacket, wearing the weapon beneath her left arm.

"Good morning," Muriam greeted as Lane made her way down the stairs to the lobby, holding a fresh tissue to her face with one hand. Lane nodded and blew her nose in response.

"Ooh, you poor thing," the innkeeper cooed, bringing out the tray of breakfast foods again. "I had a feeling this would be a bad day for you. Very high pollen count this morning."

"Lucky me," grumbled Lane, letting out a sigh. She folded her tissue, held it delicately with one hand, and blew her nose again. The paper had become completely saturated, prompting Lane to frown at it and throw it away.

"Oh, do cheer up, young miss," Muriam encouraged, returning to the back room. "I'll make you some tea."

"Thahh... Aah... AT'SHHYEEW!"

"Bless you."

"Ugh, thank you."

Lane started to rub her nose, slowly but firmly at first, quickly and vigorously only a few seconds later. She was still rubbing hard by the time Muriam returned with a pot of tea. The innkeeper poured a cup of tea and smiled sympathetically as she watched Lane continue obliviously scrubbing at her nostrils.

"Stop that! Your nose will turn bright red!" Muriam advised with a chuckle.

"I can't help it!" protested Lane, her nostrils flaring helplessly on top of her fingers.

"I know it's hard, dear, but you'll be better for it."

Lane ignored Muriam's suggestion, continuing to rub her nose non-stop until the scent of the steam rising from the tea finally began to penetrate her blocked nostrils. Sniffling quietly, Lane willed herself to stop rubbing. She wiped a tear from her left eye and picked up the teacup, holding it under her nostrils to soothe her itchy nose.

"It smells great, thanks," Lane said with a strained, grateful voice. Muriam smiled and nodded.

"Wait until you taste it."

Touching the teacup to her lips, Lane took a sip of the liquid. Her stuffy nose impeded her sense of taste, but she could still detect hints of a pleasant flavor. Lane closed her eyes and inhaled some more steam from the surface of the tea, wishing this hay fever could be somebody else's problem. When she opened her eyes again, she saw Muriam sitting at the far side of the table, smiling warmly. Lane wanted to be alone, but she couldn't refuse the kind innkeeper's company.

"How about we talk?" Muriam suggested. "It'll take your mind off things."

"Suhh... Huhh... AT'SHHYEEW!"

Lane sneezed loudly, nearly spilling her tea. She set the teacup down on the table, fished a fresh tissue out of her pocket and quickly blew her nose. It made a humiliating honking sound, but Muriam was the only one around to hear it.

"Bless you."

"Thank you."

"So, what got you into the journalism business?" Muriam asked, weaving her fingers together above the table. Lane sniffled and blew her nose again before responding.

"It's a weird story," she began, shrugging her shoulders. "I've had nightmares every night of my life ever since I was old enough to have memories. My parents always tried to tell me they weren't real, and while I didn't think they were lying, I just had to find out for myself. I guess writing articles about myths is my way of proving to myself that there's nothing to be afraid of."

"Aww, that's sweet," Muriam said with a comforting smile. "It takes a lot to face your fears. I think you're a very brave girl."

"Thanks," Lane murmured, averting her eyes. She blushed subtly, but if anyone asked she would have blamed it on her hay fever. Lane continued to smile for a moment, but her expression quickly faded as her head reared back and her nostrils flared.

"Ah... Aahh... ACK'CHHYEEW!"

Lane sneezed powerfully into her damp tissue, saturating it beyond future usefulness. She crumpled it up and threw it away, sniffling repeatedly as she reached for a new one.

"Bless you."

Lane took a deep breath through her mouth and blew her nose into her tissue. She nodded in thanks to Muriam's blessing and then began to wipe the tissue back and forth across the underside of her nose. The innkeeper and her guest smiled at each other briefly, but after a moment of friendly silence, Lane excused herself from the table and returned to her room. There was too much pollen for her to head outside and explore the town, so she decided to make some more progress on her article.

A small pile of used tissues steadily accumulated on the floor next to Lane's bed as she wrote. Typing with one hand was difficult, but Lane was left with little choice. After finishing her last thought, Lane gripped a fresh tissue with both hands, folded it over her nose, and gave the loudest, wettest blow she could manage.

"Ahh... Hah..." Lane's empty nostrils tickled in the aftermath of the blow, a perfect breeding ground for a sneeze. Her nose twitched, and she kept it buried in her tissue as she started to rear back her head.

"AH'SHHYEEEW! Ugh..."

Glancing up at one of her windows, Lane noticed that the sky had darkened. In fact, the yellow film on the outside of glass was gone as well, replaced by a shimmering wetness. Lane had become so engrossed in her writing that she hadn't noticed when it started to rain. Smiling to herself, Lane grabbed an umbrella from her suitcase and jogged down the stairs to the lobby. Muriam was standing behind the front desk, and she smiled when she saw Lane in better health.

"Hey, um," Lane began, coming to a stop in front of the desk, "do you think you could show me around the hedge maze? I want to check it out but I don't want to get lost, and this rain should keep my hay fever from acting up."

"Of course, dear," Muriam answered almost immediately, bowing her head. She grabbed an umbrella of her own from behind the front desk and led Lane outside. Most of the festivities for the Bonfire Festival were still set up, though they had been covered by tents and tarps and abandoned by their workers. It was to be expected in the rain; Lane wouldn't have been surprised if she was the only person in town who wanted to be outdoors at a time like this.

"I'm glad you asked me to come with you," Muriam said as she and Lane crossed the Pine Creek Bridge. "I've really enjoyed getting to know you over the past few days."

"Thanks, me too," Lane responded, starting to blush again. The walk to the hedge maze was fairly short, and before long the two women disappeared through the entrance. At first, there was only one way to go. Lane and Muriam walked side by side through the corridor of foliage, but before long the paths began to branch. Unless there were secrets hidden in the dead ends as well, Lane assumed Muriam was leading her into the center.

As they drew closer to the center of the maze, Lane began to notice that the hedges were becoming messier around every corner. She supposed it made sense, since it might be difficult for the gardeners to regularly reach the center. Lane could only assume most people didn't make it this far in. What she couldn't explain, however, was her sudden shortness of breath. She didn't feel debilitated or overexerted, but each breath Lane took seemed to satisfy her need for oxygen less than the previous.

Lane came to a stop, struggling to remove a tissue from her pocket with only one hand. The rain was still coming down hard, forcing her to keep one hand on her umbrella. Eventually, Lane retrieved a tissue and blew her nose, gazing over the top of the paper to keep her eyes on Muriam. After clearing her nasal passages, Lane's breath steadily returned, though she still felt strangely tired.

"Sorry," Lane apologized, catching up with the innkeeper. "Still a little stuffy."

"That's alright, dear," Muriam responded with a smile. "I'm sure you'll be feeling better soon."

Glancing down at her feet, Lane caught sight of something smooth and white protruding from the ground as she followed the innkeeper. They stepped around a corner before she could deduce what it was, and for some reason Lane simply couldn't take her mind off of it. It seemed too smooth to be a stone, but Lane told herself she was just being paranoid.

"Here we are," Muriam announced happily, rounding one last corner. Lane smiled and followed along, but her pleasant expression deteriorated instantly when she saw what lay at the center of the maze. Around the last corner was a perfectly square clearing, and the hedge walls here were messier than ever. A large, jagged black stone sat in the dead center of the circle, rough spines reaching up toward the sky.

"What the..." Lane's words caught in her throat as she glanced around the clearing. The stone would have seemed more decorative than sinister, but Lane finally realized what the white speck she had seen earlier had been. Half-buried skeletons lined the edges of the clearing. They were barely visible closer to the center, but they were piled almost all the way up the hedge walls in the corners. Lane found herself short of breath again, and this time she was unable to recover it. She fell to her knees in shock, feeling the rain start to pelt her as she dropped her umbrella.

"Are you well, young miss?" Muriam asked, her voice no more concerned than usual. It was as if she was only superficially aware of Lane's distress despite standing directly beside her. Lane placed her hands on her chest and gasped for air, barely able to breathe in enough to remain conscious.

"No, I'm..." Lane stammered, unable to say any more. She glanced up at the jagged stone, and once she locked her eyes on it, she was unable to look away. Lane felt her limbs growing weaker with each passing second, and eventually she slumped over, barely catching herself with one hand. The rain was beginning to dissipate, but given the circumstances Lane was unable to derive any comfort from it.

"It's alright, dear," Muriam cooed, delicately holding her umbrella with both hands. "You'll feel better soon. There's nothing to be afraid of."

So many things suddenly felt wrong that Lane's mind simply couldn't process them all. Muriam had been her only real acquaintance in the short time she'd spent in Pine Creek. Lane might even be willing to call her a friend. Now, the innkeeper seemed oddly malicious. Her voice and body language still conveyed no aggression or ill will, but her complete unwillingness to come to Lane's aid made it seem like she wanted this to be happening.

"Ahh... Aaah..." Lane hadn't noticed that the rain had stopped, but her nose certainly had. Without the rain to keep it down, tree pollen was beginning to fill the air again, rising right into Lane's nostrils. They flared helplessly as Lane tipped her head back, the involuntary reaction finally allowing her to remove her eyes from the jagged stone.

"AHT'TSHHYEW!"

Lane sneezed loudly, her head snapping back toward the ground. She still felt out of breath, but she was no longer paralyzed. Fresh out of better ideas, Lane reached a hand under her suit jacket and drew her handgun, flicking the safety off with her thumb.

"My goodness, put that away!" Muriam shouted, taking a step back. Lane ignored the innkeeper, shakily raising her weapon to point it at the stone in the center of the clearing. Despite the gravity of the situation, she had no proof that this wasn't all just some contrived coincidence. Still, the piles of skeletons and the stone apparently sapping her of her strength; people don't make up stories for no reason.

Lane once again locked her eyes on the stone, but only for as long as it took her to aim. The instant she had her sights lined up, she squeezed the trigger of her pistol. A bullet smacked into the side of the stone and ricocheted off into the hedges. The shot caused no visible damage, but the stone was clearly affected somehow. Lane instantly felt her strength return, and at the same time, she could have sworn she heard a cry of pain echo in her ears. Muriam was unharmed, and unless there was someone hiding in the hedges who was hit by the deflected bullet, the sound must have somehow come from the stone.

Knowing she had missed her cue to leave, Lane pushed past Muriam and headed back the way she came. Part of her wanted to hold the innkeeper at gunpoint and force her to lead her back out of the maze, but despite feeling betrayed, Lane simply couldn't bring herself to do that to the kindly old woman. Instead, she decided to find her way out on her own. Before long, Lane realized she had taken a wrong turn when she arrived at a dead end.

"Oh shit..." Lane breathed, lazily dropping her arms toward the ground. She paused to catch her breath, but she never took her eyes off of the enormous black canine standing at the end of the path. It looked to be somewhere between a dog and a wolf, Lane wasn't sure which, but she knew for sure it wasn't friendly. The beast took a step toward her, snarling and bearing its teeth. Lane slowly backed away, holding up her hands to keep the dog back.

"Good boy," she whispered, keeping eye contact with the dog. "That's a good boy. Don't chase me." The dog took another step closer, and then it lowered itself toward the ground, preparing its powerful legs. Lane's eyes widened as she heard a low, guttural growl, recalled perfectly from her nightmares. Then, the dog pounced.

"Shit! Don't chase me! Stay!" Lane screamed hysterically, spinning on her heel and sprinting back down the path. She took another turn and kept running as fast as she could, the dog panting and barking only a few yards behind her. Not sure what else to do, Lane pointed her gun back as she ran and fired. She could tell without even looking that she hadn't hit the dog, but the massive creature whined and backed off, allowing Lane to gain more of a lead. Lane continued to run as if the beast were directly behind her. She picked one wall and followed it all the way, even through the dead ends, and eventually she arrived back at the entrance to the maze.

With the sounds of the pursuing dog gone, Lane stopped to catch her breath. She bent down, placing her hands on her knees, and she gasped for air to refill her strength. Flicking the safety back on, Lane slipped her pistol back into its holster and took a deep breath. It felt good to breathe in, but she also inadvertently filled her nose with a mess of tree pollen.

"Aah... Aaahh..." Lane rubbed her nose, pressing two fingers to her nostrils. She was still having trouble processing everything that had just happened, so she thought maybe a good sneeze might clear her head.

"AH'TCHHYEW!"

Stumbling half a step forward, Lane coughed and rubbed her nose again. She felt a bit better, but then she heard the sound of borderline-rabid barking screaming out of the maze behind her. Gasping in surprise, Lane turned to her left and tried to run around to the side of the maze. She knew the dog would catch her in a straightaway if she tried to run for her car, and with any luck it would assume she ran across the bridge, giving her more time to plan an escape.

As she made her way around the outside of the maze, Lane lost her footing and fell straight down into a hole in the ground. It was too evenly-shaped to be natural; someone must have dug it with a purpose. It felt suspiciously similar to a pitfall trap, but for now all Lane could do was try to climb out of it. The hole was just shallow enough that she could reach the top if she stood on her toes, so she immediately began trying to pull herself out.

The sound of barking put a stop to Lane's efforts. Sinking back into the hole, she placed a hand over her mouth. She had no way of knowing if the dog was on the other side of the bridge or only a few feet away, so she did her best to keep quiet. Unfortunately, the pollen in the air had been growing thicker by the minute ever since the rain stopped, and before long Lane knew she was going to sneeze.

"Ah..." she hitched softly, extending her middle and index fingers. Lane pressed her fingers to the underside of her nose and held them in place in an effort to prevent any more pollen from getting in. The tickle in her nostrils continued to grow, even as she wrinkled and rubbed her nose.

"Haahh..." Lane's breath shuddered, her eyes narrowing helplessly. She pressed her fingers to her nostrils as hard as she could, squishing her nose up vertically, but she already knew her efforts were in vain. It was only a matter of time before she sneezed, and Lane could only hope the dog wasn't close enough to deduce her location.

"HA'TCHHYEEEW!"

The instant she recovered from the sneeze, Lane scrambled to draw her pistol from its holster. Unfortunately, by the time she had the handgun ready, the dog was standing at the edge of the hole, growling down at her. Lane tried to raise her weapon, but before she could, the dog leapt into the hole and tackled her. Lane's head slammed against the dirt wall, making her vision swim, and she felt her weapon fall from her hand.

The next few minutes passed in a blur. Lane recalled being lifted up out of the hole, but she never saw who was carrying her. Then, she was being dragged across the grass by her legs, her arms trailing aimlessly above her head. Her hair slipped out of its short ponytail, flowing out behind her on the ground. Then, just outside the entrance to the hedge maze, whoever was dragging her came to a stop. Lane heard shouting, but she couldn't discern any words. Several pops of rapid gunfire suddenly split the air, and whoever had been holding Lane's legs let go and sprinted off into the hedge maze. The last thing Lane saw before passing out was the blurry outline of a white-haired man standing over her.

Lane walked down a long, straight road, lined on either side by pine trees. For once, she didn't mind being around pine trees. She actually thought they looked quite nice when they weren't aggravating her hay fever. Lane reflexively rubbed her nose before she realized she didn't have to, and then she closed her eyes took a deep breath and enjoyed the tickle-free pine scent.

The instant Lane opened her eyes, flames whipped past her on either side with an audible "whoosh," setting fire to every tree in sight. After just a few seconds, everything other than the road appeared to be nothing more than a solid wall of fire, and the suffocating smell of smoke filled the air. Lane covered her face with one arm and kept her head low, starting to run forward between the two raging infernos. There was no visible means of escape, but she had to keep going.

Just as the walls of fire seemed like they were coming to an end, one of the trees to Lane's right suddenly splintered and fell. The burning trunk fell across the road, blocking Lane's progress. She coughed and wheezed as smoke and soot forced their way into her mouth and nostrils, causing her to double over. Lane fell to her knees, coughing a few more times, and then she felt a rapidly growing tickle in her nose.

"Hh'KnSHHHh!"

Lane sneezed sharply, finding herself lying in a warm, comfortable bed. After a second, however, she realized it wasn't her bed at the inn. The ceiling was different, and her suitcase wasn't on the floor to her right. Turning to her left, Lane came face to face with Mister Skinner sitting in a chair beside her.

-----

And again, that's all for now! It'll be at least three days before I can post again after tonight, so I'll try to get chapter 4 up as soon as I can after PAX.

[Klingon]

excellent so far!

[TheCakeIsAlive]

What was in that tea? And where did the dog come from (Muriel?).

Absolutely lovely. *waits on edge of seat until you return with the final installment*

[ValkyriePleasant]

This is amazinggggg

[Blah!?]

Alright, here we are. Unfortunately, all good things must come to an end. All I can say is I really hope you enjoy the ending I've given you.

-----

Day 4

Lane stared into Mister Skinner's eyes, refusing to so much as blink. He stared right back, his expression gruff as usual, though he seemed less confrontational than before. Lane's frown slowly softened, but she still maintained eye contact as if it would keep the man away.

"Aahh..." Lane's eyes narrowed as she took in a soft breath. Her senses slowly returned to her as she awakened, and her nose quickly reminded her that she was stuck in the middle of hay fever season.

"AT'TSHHYEW!"

Lane's head folded toward her legs as she let out a powerful sneeze. She rubbed her middle and index fingers back and forth under her nostrils, and when she looked back to Mister Skinner, she was surprised to see him holding out a box of tissues.

"Here," he said, his voice just as gravely as usual. "I got you these for your corn flu, or whatever it is."

"It's hay fever!" yelled Lane, prompting Skinner to suddenly throw the tissue box at her face and stand up from his chair. Lane yelped, fumbling with the box, but she managed to catch it and hold it on her lap.

"Girl, would it kill you to say 'thank you'?" Skinner grumbled, facing away from the bed. Lane plucked a tissue from the box and blew her nose. Once her nostrils were clear, she wiped the underside of her nose and gazed up at the old man over the paper.

"Thank you," Lane muttered resentfully. She closed her eyes and blew her nose again, but once she finished, her expression softened.

"Why did you save me?" Lane asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Again, 'thank you' would suffice."

"No, really," Lane spoke up, lowering her used tissue. "I thought you hated me."

"Well, I sure as hell don't like you all that much," Skinner grumbled, returning to his chair. He sat down slowly, ignoring Lane as she glared at him. After taking a deep breath, Skinner turned back to his unlikely guest and made eye contact.

"You just remind me of my daughter."

Lane nearly smiled, at least until Skinner started talking again.

"Rude, impulsive, no respect for her elders."

"Gee, thanks, mister," Lane grumbled, pressing her damp tissue to the underside of her nose again. Skinner smirked and shook his head.

"But she was smart," he continued, prompting Lane to listen intently. "Smart enough that I know it's nobody's fault but mine that we haven't talked in nearly ten years."

"Where is she now?" Lane asked, sniffling into her tissue. Skinner shook his head again.

"I have no idea. I haven't seen her since she left town for college. Probably some city somewhere. Hell, she might even be you! She's around your age, and lord knows my ex-wife easily could have pushed out someone half as ugly as you are."

"I beg your parduhh... Aahh... AT'SHHYEW!"

"For what? I said you were smart!"

"You said I was ugly!"

"That was a tactical decision. If I tell you you're ugly you'll just see me as an asshole. If I tell you you're attractive, that places me more in the sex offender category. I don't know about you, but I'd much rather be an asshole." Skinner shrugged, clearly not taking this conversation too seriously. Lane sighed, drooping her shoulders, but after a moment she began to laugh. It began as a light giggle at first, and then it grew into hearty laughter until she gave a soft but clearly audible snort. Lane's laughter stopped immediately and she covered her nose with a fresh tissue, pretending nothing had happened.

"Maybe you hit your head harder than I thought," Skinner groaned, raising an eyebrow.

"No, I'm okay," Lane responded, "though you know, you could have just not said anything about it at all."

Skinner sighed, shaking his head again. Lane gripped her tissue firmly and blew her nose, letting out a quiet cough in the aftermath. After wiping her nose again, she looked back up at the old man and tried to soften her expression.

"You know more about this town than you let on, don't you?" Lane asked, though her tone made it sound like a statement rather than a question.

"Too much," said Skinner, leaning back in his chair, "and I wasn't even here when things got bad."

"But you figured it out, didn't you?" Lane sniffed, giving her nose a quick but vigorous rub.

"It took me too god damn long," admitted Skinner. "By the time I realized what was going on, it was too late for me to do anything about it by myself. This town could be completely beyond saving by now."

"You can still try, right?"

"We are going to try."

"We?" Lane blurted, raising her eyebrows in surprise.

"Yeah, we," Skinner repeated, pushing himself up out of his chair. "We don't have time to argue about this, so I'm telling you right now, you're going to help me. You're not very hard to figure out, you know? If you didn't care, you would have skipped town a long time ago, or you wouldn't have even come here to begin with. Hell, I'd wager you'd have volunteered in a second if I hadn't recruited you already."

Lane didn't object, but she did raise her tissue back up to her face. She placed it gently over her nose and blew, lightly shaking her head to alternate nostrils. Lane wiped the tissue across the underside of her nose and then glanced down at it, gauging how much more use she could get out of the dampening paper.

"I can help you," Lane agreed, nodding weakly, "but I'd appreciate it if you told me what was going on here."

"Girl, be patient," Skinner grumbled, scratching his head. "I'm getting there."

"Well, I'm sorry," groaned Lane, "I thought we were short on time. I mean, isn't the Bonfire Festival today? Aah... Haah... AT'SHHYEW!"

"See, that's where you're wrong," Skinner explained as Lane blew her nose again. "The Bonfire Festival doesn't mean anything. They made it up in the late seventies to attract tourists. This all began even before that, though."

Skinner paced away from the bed, pausing in front of a window. After a moment, Lane swung her legs over the side of the bed and followed him. She could barely see more than trees outside, only the path leading back to the Hedge Bridge Inn provided a change in scenery.

"There was a meteor shower in the 1950s, I forget what year exactly. One of them landed here, right where the hedge maze is now," Skinner began, continuing to stare out his window. Lane nodded and furrowed her brow, realizing the true identity of the jagged stone.

"Nobody touched it for years. Hell, the bridge over there didn't even exist yet. That didn't come until later. Everyone in this town avoided the stone for almost twenty years, all the way until 1971. That's when I was deployed in Vietnam, so I guess that year was destined to be the worst year of my entire life. If I hadn't been watching all my friends die there, I would have suffered the same fate as everyone else in this town here."

"What happened?" Lane inquired, scrunching up her nose as the tree pollen began to tickle her again. She pressed her fingers to her nostrils and rubbed hard, not wanting to sneeze and interrupt the story.

"I didn't know at first," Skinner continued, shaking his head. "When I came back, that bridge was under construction. I just thought people finally wanted to get to the other side of the ravine. But, you live in a small town like this long enough, you start to notice when people aren't themselves. You start to notice when new people come to town, and even though they never leave, you never see them again."

"All those skeletons in the maze," Lane wondered aloud. "I guess that's where everyone whehh... Haah... AHT'TSHHYEW!"

Lane bent forward sharply at the waist, nearly hitting her head on the window as she sneezed. She straightened up slowly and began to rub her nose again, keeping her nose pressed to the left after a few rubs.

"Ugh, excuse me," Lane breathed, gently closing her eyes. She lowered her fingers away from her face, but she wrinkled the left side of her nose to keep it bent to the side on its own. After giving Lane a moment to catch her breath, Skinner nodded and resumed his account.

"Even after all these years I still don't know how it works, but somehow that meteor is just taking people. And it's using the townspeople to do it. That's the only thing I managed to figure out. Everyone who lived in this town in 1971 is hell-bent on serving that god damn space rock, and they don't even know it. They just bring people into the maze and the meteor strips them to the bone, like it's having a grand old feast."

"Is Muriam Bristol their leader or something?" Lane asked through a slightly stuffy nose. She plucked a tissue from her box and wiped her nostrils, not wanting to interrupt with the sound of a blow.

"Oh, no, the meteor's the leader," Skinner corrected, scratching his chin. "Muriam and everyone else are just pawns. Luckily most of the young people around here have no idea, but that doesn't change the fact that people are dying. Almost got you, too."

"Twice," Lane sniffled, rubbing her tissue back and forth under her nose. "I lucked out the first time, and then..." She paused, rolling her eyes. "And you saved me the second time."

"Sounds like you lucked out both times."

"Maybe," Lane shrugged. "So, what's your plan? All this talk makes it sound like you have a plan."

"I do," Skinner nodded, the faintest hint of a smirk crossing his lips. "Come with me."

Mister Skinner led Lane out of his house, taking her around the side of the building to the cellar she had previously infiltrated. This time, Skinner had secured the rickety door with a padlock, and he took a moment to unlock it before they could head inside.

"Ah... Aaah..." Lane hitched, pollen from the surrounding trees saturating her nostrils. She pressed her fingers to her nose and rubbed, but she already knew it was too late.

"AH'CHYEEEW!"

Lane staggered, lightly bumping into Skinner. He turned and glared at her, rolling his eyes as he watched the young lady pitifully scrub at her nose.

"Control yourself, girl," Skinner grumbled, turning his attention back to the lock.

"Hey! Do you think I like having hay fever? It sucks!" Lane snapped, jabbing a finger at the old man. Skinner waved a hand at her dismissively and shook his head.

"Just go back to your big old city once this is over. Then you'll never have to see another tree ever again."

"I will!"

Lane pouted, stomping one foot on the ground, but Skinner ignored her as he finally opened the lock. Pulling the cellar door open, he led Lane back into the underground portion of his house, immediately heading for the wall where he kept his weapon. However, the blanket was already lying on the floor and the gun rack was decidedly empty. Upon seeing the vacant rack, Lane vaguely recalled seeing the M16 leaning against the wall next to Skinner's chair inside.

"Do I get to find out what's in the trunk now?" Lane asked, raising an eyebrow and putting on a cheeky smirk. Skinner rolled his eyes and slapped her on the back of the head, causing her hair to fly over her face.

"You most certainly do," he mumbled, kneeling down in front of the trunk to unlock it. Lane stood over the large container as Skinner lifted the lid. Dust rose from inside, floating straight up into Lane's nostrils.

"Hh'knCHHHhn!"

Lane's head bobbed forward as she let out a nasally sneeze. She pressed her fingers to her nostrils and fluttered her eyes open, squinting to see through the dust. Peering into the trunk, all Lane could make out was a pair of metal tanks and some sort of hose assembly.

"What is it?" Lane asked, keeping her fingers under her nose. Skinner reached into the trunk and removed its contents. Now that Lane could see more of it, it appeared to be another weapon.

"I was in Vietnam in the seventies, and my father was in France in the forties," Skinner explained, resting the object on the edge of the trunk. "This is an M2 flamethrower, and yes, it still works after all these years."

Lane nodded, starting to realize Skinner's plan. She rubbed her nose, finally managing to push most of the tickle out of her nasal passages, and then she folded her arms and nodded again.

"Going to put it on?"

Skinner suddenly slapped Lane on the back of the head again. She blew her hair away from her face and gently rubbed her head, scowling at the old man.

"Girl, do I look like I'm going to put it on? I'd wager I could still walk all up and down your scrawny ass, but I can't carry something this god damn heavy anymore."

"Fine!" Lane shouted, stomping her foot on the floor again. "God! Just give it to me then!"

Skinner rolled his eyes and thrust the flamethrower's fuel tanks into Lane's arms. She held the weapon securely, but the weight caught her off guard. Her legs collapsed and she fell to her knees, kicking up a small cloud of dust as she landed.

"H'khSHHHn!"

Using her seated position to steady herself, Lane managed to eventually slip the fuel tank's carrying straps around her shoulders. After securing them in place, Lane shakily lifted herself to her feet, proud that she was able to equip herself on her own.

"I'm ready!" she declared, holding up the hand-held portion of the weapon. Skinner shook his head yet again, but this time he seemed to smile genuinely. Deciding not to ruin the moment by asking if he was truly impressed, Lane kept quiet and followed the old man back out of the cellar. The added weight made it difficult to climb the stairs, but she managed it with a little effort.

"Ah... Aaah... ACHYEEEW!"

Lane sneezed loudly as she stood on Skinner's porch, waiting for him to come back outside. He had returned to his bedroom to retrieve his assault rifle, and presumably some other supplies as well. Holding the flamethrower's grip with one hand, Lane reached the middle and index fingers of her other hand up to her face and rubbed her nose. She clenched her eyes shut, snuffling lightly, and when she opened the again she saw Skinner step back through the door. His rifle was slung over his back, and Lane was somewhat surprised to see him holding a large pickaxe in his hands. However, it didn't take her long to realize what the mining tool was for. Skinner quickly stepped past her, brandishing the pick like a mace.

"Ready to kick off the Bonfire Festival?"

Lane and Skinner made their way back to the festival grounds. Not wanting to draw any more attention to themselves than they inevitably already had, they decided not to linger near the inn. Instead, the duo made their way across the Pine Creek Bridge and stopped at the entrance of the hedge maze. Skinner took a moment to explain how the flamethrower actually worked, and then he pointed into the maze.

"Now, you only have enough fuel for about seven seconds of continuous use. That doesn't sound like a lot, but it'll get us there. Now, fire in spurts, and aim around where we're going to go. Don't get any of the fuel in our path."

Lane nodded, and then she pointed her weapon forward. Taking a deep breath, Lane primed the flamethrower's igniter and then she squeezed off a quick burst of flame. It didn't take much to set the hedge maze burning, but the light and smoke inevitably began to draw attention from the town. Even over the sound of the flames, Lane and Skinner could hear cars approaching up the road. If the townspeople got involved, their already dangerous situation could spiral completely out of control.

"Burn the bridge!" Skinner ordered, pointing back at the wooden walkway.

"Are you sure?" Lane stammered, glancing over her shoulder at the old man. Skinner nodded gravely, and Lane understood it was the only way to keep the townspeople back. She turned back to face the bridge and sprayed a wall of fire across it, draining more of her precious fuel.

Smoke began to fill the air even before a path through the hedges started to open. Lane and Skinner coughed raggedly, but they pressed on. As large as the hedge maze looked from the outside, it didn't take too long to reach the center. Cutting through the walls removed most of the journey, and before long the duo arrived at the fallen meteor. Lane once again felt short of breath, and with the heavy flamethrower on her back, she found it difficult to stay on her feet. She also heard what sounded like panicked murmuring, echoing inside her own head.

"Girl," Skinner spoke up, jabbing a finger at Lane. If the meteor was affecting him too, he wasn't showing a single sign of it. Lane weakly turned her head to look at him, finding an almost evil smile plastered across his face.

"Roast that god damn space rock."

Lane smiled back, and then she turned her full attention to the meteor. Raising the flamethrower, she squeezed the trigger and doused the jagged stone in burning fuel. The panicked murmuring echoing between her ears immediately devolved into agonized screaming. It was a painful sensation, forcing Lane to release the flamethrower's trigger.

"Don't stop!" Skinner ordered, gesturing at the meteor. "Give it all you've got!"

Lane squeezed the trigger again. The flamethrower sputtered for a second, and then the column of flame died entirely. Lane pressed the trigger one more time, but again nothing happened. She turned to Skinner, giving him a panicked stare.

"I think it's empty!" she shouted, making sure she was audible over the flames. Surprisingly, Skinner smiled and shook his head. He dropped the assault rifle off his shoulder and laid the pickaxe down on the ground next to it, and then he beckoned to Lane.

"Give me the M2," he said, giving Lane his first unquestionably genuine smile. Despite the inferno raging around them, he seemed at peace with the world. Lane raised an eyebrow, letting her arms fall away from a ready position.

"I thought you said it was too heavy!" she protested, fearful of what Skinner's new plan might be.

"It was! Now it's empty!" Skinner replied with a hearty laugh. "Just give it to me! There's something else I need you to do!"

Unable to stop herself from frowning, Lane agreed to the old man's demands. She unstrapped the flamethrower's fuel tanks from her back and handed them over, helping Skinner secure them on his person in her stead. He bent over and retrieved his pickaxe from the ground, leaving Lane to ponder his goal.

"Now what? What do I do?"

Skinner walked quickly up to the young woman, giving her another surprisingly genuine smile. Then, he suddenly shoved Lane to the ground, sending her into a smoke-induced coughing fit.

"You live!"

After coughing continuously for a few seconds, Lane finally managed to get herself under control. Still too weak to stand, she lifted her head in time to see Skinner arrive next to the meteor. The old man lifted his pickaxe above his head, and then he brought it down on the jagged stone with all his might. The screaming that echoed inside Lane's head was boosted to a deafening screech, dropping her head to the ground. A few seconds later, Lane managed to lift her head again. Skinner was raising the pick a second time, preparing to destroy the meteor once and for all when it suddenly exploded on its own. Lane didn't have time to see anything before a chunk of wood from the pickaxe's haft struck her forehead, instantly knocking her unconscious.

For the first time in twenty six years, Lane suffered no nightmare as she slept. Consciousness returned to her in a blur. She had no memory of being awakened; the first thing Lane could recall was sitting on the rear step of an ambulance, wrapped in a blanket. A bandage was attached to her forehead above her left eye, and a nurse told her she would have a scar underneath it. Lane finally realized that as much as she disliked her face, she had never properly thought about changing it.

"Hello, young miss," a familiar voice greeted. Lane jumped at the sound of Muriam's voice. She half expected the elderly innkeeper to drag her back to the jagged stone in the center of the hedge maze, but then she remembered all of it was gone. Muriam appeared to be back to her old self, but Lane couldn't look at her the same way anymore.

"Hey," the young lady responded weakly, earning a sympathetic smile from Muriam. She placed a hand on Lane's shoulder, prompting her to recoil slightly.

"I'll give you some space," Muriam said. "I'm just so glad you're alright."

"Thank youhh... Huh... AHT'TSHHYEEW!"

Lane bent forward with a loud, high-pitched sneeze. On top of all her other trauma, she still had her hay fever. Muriam seemed completely oblivious to what had happened the day before. Perhaps the meteor's spell was broken, and everyone under it would live the rest of their lives without ever realizing what had happened to them.

Declaring herself unfit to leave right away, Lane spent one more night at the Hedge Bridge Inn. Her daily nightmare returned, but this time she was somewhere far away from Pine Creek, somewhere she had never heard of before. The next morning, she packed, paid Muriam for her stay, and then left town as quickly as she could. In spite of her trauma-induced lethargy the day before, Lane found herself filled with a new sense of purpose.

The papers would tell a story completely detached from reality. On that fateful day, a local war veteran finally snapped under post-traumatic stress disorder and went on a rampage, burning a cherished landmark to the ground, but not before kidnapping a young journalist. Luckily, the catastrophe caused no casualties aside from the perpetrator, but investigations revealed nearly one hundred previously undiscovered corpses, all reduced to nothing more than skeletons by time and fire.

The residents of Pine Creek and its neighboring towns would know Mister Skinner as a serial killer who finally lost his mind. Lane, however, knew the truth. Her unexpectedly poignant discussions with the old man led her to realize there were a great many more undiscovered truths out there in the world. Lane was already experienced in investigating situations that appeared to be paranormal. As she drove away from the little forested town, she made herself a promise. The Pine Creek hedge maze had been Lane's first real tale of the supernatural, but it would not be her last.

-----

And so ends my latest story. There may be more with Lane in the future, but there are other things I have to focus on for now, so that's going to be quite a while off. Again, I really hope you enjoyed this one! I definitely enjoyed writing it.

And, last but certainly not least, I'd like to give a big thanks to all my beta readers. I don't think I would have made it this far without any one of you guys.

[NoV]

This has been a great story - have really enjoyed reading it I certainly would not be adverse to reading more of the delightful sneezing Lane. Can't help but feel its just me being weird, but why does the idea of a girl sneezing while brandishing a flamethrower seem ridiculously hot... (Sorry Joal...couldn't resist. Your pun crown remains unchallenged)

[Curiosity234]

Yaaaay

[a red nine]

AAAAAAAH

GAHHHThis is a really good way to get a series rolling! We have this character Lane, who is clearly going to become a magnet for mysteries, and is likely going to end up carrying all her experiences with her - and if people keep forgetting the supernatural things that happened, she could bear the struggles all alone. Which is always a 2cool way to build a character imho. CAN'T HANDLE... THE COOL...

The interactions between Lane and Mr. Skinner in the end were also good, I liked how you crafted Skinner's dialogue - he somehow managed to be a grumpy old man but believably courageous, and in that way quite likable, at the same time. I feel like when old grumpy guys turn out to be cool in a plot twist, they suddenly drop their grumpiness, a la Home Alone's Old Man Marley. Mr. Skinner held onto that, but his heroism came across as realistic too. It was clear that the duty he had embodied in the past hadn't left him from his work as a soldier. Plus corn flu still makes me laugh. How could I not admire Skinner in the end?

Lane strikes me as a character who will continue to be hardened by her future experiences. Already this first weird supernatural happenstance clearly left an impact on her, and even though you may never get there, as a reader I can't help but wonder if she'll end up like Mr. Skinner when she's his age. Maybe not as creepy. Yeah not as creepy. Her young-looking face will eventually be an asset when she's like fifty anyway.

Usually when you finish your stories, I feel like you've left us with just what you wanted to and just what we needed. In this case I think you did too, but that final note definitely says more adventures are on Lane's way, and that makes me want more. You already have plenty of stories on your plate, I know I keep griping on you about that, buuuuuuut... if you did continue, I wouldn't be opposed in the least, ye. I mean I usually find female spicing cute enough, but the situations you put Lane in really added to the cuteness of it, and I'd like to see more of what you can do. It'll be hard without the hay fever, but I trust you'll come up with something GOOD WORK BRO *sparkly anime princess wink that makes a 'ding' noise*

[zneeze]

In what ought to be considered another instant classic in the sneeze fetish genre, Blah summons Stephen King in The Shadow over Pine Creek. He has mastered the art of balancing plot and fetish material, as leading lady Lane's hay fever sneezing adds just enough to an already brilliant and unique plot. Blah crafts his new characters through dialogue that makes seasoned authors jealous and beginners eager to learn from the master. This horror-mystery displays his versatility and his linguistic aplomb, and its thrilling conclusion is a can't-miss. Adding to an oeuvre that already includes Immediate Expulsion, Callie's Not-So-Fantastic Voyage and The Breeze, we can only hope Blah will follow up on hints that Lane will star in a paranormal-themed series to follow Pine Creek.

Your fics deserve real story reviews, bro. Great, great work as always.

[Oolia]

I can't believe I missed this one when it came out a YEAR ago! I'm so glad I've read it now!

Your characters are really interesting and their interactions are so much fun. Especially with Mister Skinner. I laughed out loud a few times at his retorts He's totally my favorite character of yours now, even though he's dead I also love how everyone was like "are you sick?"

You really are a master of description. You manage to give us a clear image in our head without using too many words, and the little details you add are so perfect (like when Mister Skinner comes down the stairs and the steps go from wood to concrete, it painted such a vivid picture in my mind... and it was such a simple detail!).

I really liked the mystery too. You did a great job going from one unexpected situation to the next, keeping us hooked and wanting to know more. I definitely got the same Stephen King vibe that Z got, probably from the small town, tight community and supernatural stuff happening. I loved it I'm a huge fan of weird shit happening in small towns. I have no idea why lol.

In short: REALLY good job! Thoroughly enjoyed it! Can't wait for another mystery from you :nudge nudge: